


A Walk in the Rain

by vanillafluffy



Category: Political Animals
Genre: M/M, Recovery, Sobriety, Sponsor, Thirteenth-stepping attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TJ wants something from Crispin. It remains to be seen whether or not he'll get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Stand alone, but fits between "Rome Wasn't Built In a Day" and "The Donor" if you're reading the series.

The NA meeting is over, and the February weather has worsened from cold and windy to a steady pelting of not-quite ice. Crispin Hughes congratulates himself on having had the foresight to bring an umbrella with him today. He may end up with wet feet, but at least he won't be completely soaked. 

TJ Hammond stands in the vestibule, looking forlornly out at the slushy puddles beginning to form. 

Crispin has mixed feelings about TJ. He's partly sorry for him, because growing up in the White House couldn't be easy. Mostly he's exasperated, because it's past time for the guy to grow the hell up--there's only a couple years difference in their ages, but TJ reminds him of some of his less-mature students, the ones who think that being 18 and away from Mommy and Daddy means they're free to do whatever they want to--TJ's got to be 30 by now, and he's still a hot mess. 

Emphasis on "hot", because as much as he'd like to deny it, Crispin could go for him...if it wasn't for the "mess" part. TJ may not be using right now, but Crispin wouldn't call his attitude "recovery", either. He comes to meetings and says all the right things, but he looks wistful when he talks about being strung-out on coke and making a lifestyle of bed-hopping. It's like he knows he _should_ be clean, but he doesn't want to be. 

Still, looking at him staring at the sleet like a lost puppy, Crispin sighs to himself and says, "Which way are you going?" 

Crispin brandishes the umbrella. TJ makes eye contact with him, big dark blue eyes, looking hopeful. "Up toward Monument Drive," TJ says, shivering a little. 

"I'm going that way for a few blocks." It isn't his usual route, but it's not out of the way, either. 

The black silk arch over them forms an intimate space. Crispin is uncomfortably aware of the other man. As they walk, he notices tiny details that weren't obvious during meetings. TJ is just a shade shorter than he is. In grey daylight, his perfectly styled hair has tones of auburn in it. And something in his grooming regimen smells terrific, warm and spicy. 

It's good to walk with someone who can keep pace with him. Crispin usually has to slow down for others, but TJ moves alongside him without effort, his leather jacket making little creaking sounds as he walks. 

"When you were sharing," TJ says, and Crispin tenses. "You mentioned your boyfriend died in that car crash...you are gay, right?"

 _Here we go._ He's not surprised TJ is hitting on him. Crispin isn't as handsome as TJ Hammond (in his own opinion, which is rather modest) or as well-dressed, but he's had no shortage of offers from both sexes. However, he has standards, which don't include getting involved with immature trust-fund babies, even when they're long-legged and look like young Greek gods. 

"I am, but--"

"Would you be my sponsor?" TJ blurts out. 

Crispin stops dead in his tracks. TJ recovers in half a step. They're face-to-face under the canopy, so close Crispin can see a minute patch of stubble that TJ's razor missed. "What does my being gay have to do with being your sponsor?"

"A lot of straight guy are weird about gay guys, like they're afraid they'll get queer cooties. And you _said_ you're gay; you're not some closet case. Been there, done that...can we keep moving? My feet are freezing."

They start off again, and after a moment, Crispin says, "Look, I know what you're after, and it's not going to happen. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Wow, ego much? I need a sponsor, I figured you would understand some of my problems better than anyone else I've met. But hey, don't worry about me...."

"Boohoo," Crispin says mildly, because the "poor me!" attitude is a little too obvious. "If you really need a sponsor, fine. I'll help. But this is not a hook-up, we're not going to be Thirteenth Stepping, I'm here to help with your sobriety, not your love life, are we clear?"

"Crystal." TJ beams at him, and they both know TJ is bullshitting him. Whether Crispin can get through to him and maybe do some good remains to be seen. 

Crispin has a feeling he's already in over his head. TJ's next words bear out his worst suspicions. "So I guess I'm going to need your phone number...."

 

...


End file.
